17

Feb

by The Four Part Land

A land of speckled grey
A whisper in the mist
A hand of mottled clay
A shadow upon the grist

A bird at play amongst the skies
A figure in the shade
A child, one that dies
A darkness amidst the glade

All these things had clouded round
The village for to seek
A home, a hearth, a living speak
Yet buried upside down

Caper and dance, laugh and fall
The devil’s daily bread
Now slay them fast, now slay them all
And the leader you must behead

And piss upon his gravestone now
For tomorrow you’ll be drowned

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Comments

  1. marc nash on 02.17.2012

    I like the barely suppressed anger in this. As befits someone seeking their kingdom back and a spot of revenge

    marc nash

    [Reply]

  2. ganymeder on 02.17.2012

    I really liked this, especially the rhythm, though I confess I didn’t quite understand the part about being upside down. Nicely creepy!

    [Reply]

  3. Adam Byatt on 02.17.2012

    Striking imagery and that repressed anger about to burst to the surface.
    Adam B @revhappiness

    [Reply]

  4. Louise Broadbent on 03.19.2012

    I’ve nominated you for the Versatile Blogger Award

    [Reply]

    The Four Part Land Reply:

    *blink* Why thank you Louise!

    That comes as quite a shock, given my recent lack of blogging while writing.

    [Reply]

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